


Two Sides of the Coin

by PenShips



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 20:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenShips/pseuds/PenShips
Summary: A brief exploration of darklighter!Harry and whitelighter!Harry and their feelings towards Macy.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn, hacy - Relationship
Comments: 11
Kudos: 69





	Two Sides of the Coin

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless and desperate attempt for more hacy content before the episode on Friday.

They were two sides of the same coin, him and the whitelighter. Whereas his urge was to protect the witches, to heal and to teach them. His urge was a little different. After all, neither he nor the whitelighter were the best of humanity when they were alive, far from Mother Theresa. All those violent, cowardly, selfish thoughts and urges had to go somewhere and with the creation of Harry Greenwood the whitelighter came him; the byproduct, the outcast, the necessary evil. 

The Elder bastards kept him and the other byproducts squirrelled away, imprisoned until their deaths triggered his brethren and him to be released. His first act of freedom was to find a bar. He hadn’t a good drink in decades for another byproduct of being created was while the whitelighter had his memory removed, he was left with every aching moment of their past life right up until their death. Enraged, wronged and tormented, he had one purpose and one purpose only. He was going to right the wrongs. Kill the whitelighter bastard and his charges. Eye for an eye. 

And yet, he and the whitelighter really were the same. See, he’d stalked them before he attacked. An old habit from before he died really. Only an idiot would go after a mark without a good study of their movements. He stalked the sisters first, learnt what made them tick. And what a surprise it was to see the eldest sister. The whitelighter liked her. The whitelighter wanted her and he only knew because he’d begun to notice how fuckable she was. He was a coward who held his charge above anything else. And he was an assassin who held his mark above anything else. 

But when he found he could manipulate the eldest sister, it was so easy. She wanted the whitelighter too but both of them were too stupid to really see it. He came to her in dreams, pretending to be the whitelighter and found himself enjoying the way her body felt against his or the way her eyes heavy with desire traced his body. Of course, it hadn’t lasted long. The whitelighter had seen his face so of course, he would have told the witches. 

The eldest had been avoiding him. She knew he wasn’t the whitelighter and it infuriated him. He wanted her dead but in a funny twist of fate, just like the whitelighter he found himself wanting her. He almost regretted not fucking her when he had the chance. Of course, at that time he’d only been screwing with her head. Odd how connected they were that even the whitelighter’s stupid little crush would debilitate him in achieving his goal. 

He could adapt, he was nothing if not adaptable. Two witches dead and the last a prize for him still worked just the same as three dead witches. He just needed a chance. One slip up from the eldest and he would have her. She didn’t sleep much since finding what he was and he couldn’t approach her. Somehow the witches could tell he wasn’t the whitelighter. 

But even little demon witches needed their sleep and he could wait until she was too tired to fend him off. He was fascinated with her. The way she moved, the way she fought, the way she smiled and laughed. Even the way her eyes would widen in terror and her breath hitch in her throat when she’d realise he’d infiltrated one of her dreams. 

So when the three little witches found their way into his lair, well, he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He would have taken any of them but Lady Luck had shone down and it just so worked out it was her. His prize. In the panic maybe she hadn’t seen him properly because how easily she trusted him. How easily she told her sisters to leave. 

His eyes followed the nape of her neck, accentuated as her head lolled back in the chair he’d strapped her to. And then to the rise and fall of her breasts and he ached to feel them in his hands. How the whitelighter managed to keep his calm around her he’d never know. If what he felt was even half of what his counterpart felt, the poor bastard must be in agony every time she walked in the room. Then again the whitelighters were self-sacrificing bastards who loved to punish themselves for no reason but to please the Elders. Not him. He wanted something, he took it. 

Her eyes fluttered open, the whitelighter’s name on her tongue. And then she spotted him and hope blossomed on her face before it fell through just as quickly as it came. He smiled sardonically at her. ‘Not Harry,’ she said, her face contorted angrily. ‘Listen you shapeshifting demon, when I get out of here there’s going to be hell to pay.’ 

He cocked his head to the side, drinking in her features. He’d never seen her angry and it was just as beautiful as any other emotion he’d seen her with. Then a thought. Shape-shifting demon. She didn’t know what he was which meant the whitelighter and the witches probably didn’t know what he was. What he truly was. 

The witch leaned forward in her chair, trying no doubt to throw a fireball at him. Calmly he remained in his position and watched her struggle. It was funny, a little cute even. When she finally realised her efforts were futile, she stopped and leaned back in her chair, exhausted. As she begun renewed in her anger to try and hurl insults at him, a low growling sound from her stomach stopped her. 

'Hungry?' He asked. 

'What's it to you?' The witch snapped, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. 

Her bonds. Perhaps he'd tied them a little too tight but he was afraid, not of her. No, he was afraid of his feelings. He wanted her dead, yes. It was true. He wanted her and her sisters burnt at the stake. He wanted the whitelighter buried. They were the reason he'd been locked away for so long. They were the whitelighter's pride and joy. It helped of course they were the Charmed Ones. Perfect for his collection. 

He wanted her dead and yet he wanted her to look at him the way she looked at the whitelighter. He wanted her lips on him. He wanted her breast against his chest and her hands in his hair, her breath hitching in pleasure as his fingers slipped below. Clearing his throat, he stepped closer to her, pleased when she flinched. Good. She should be scared of him. 

'Can't have you starving to death before your sisters come.'

Her eyes flashed black, the demon in her rising to the front. 'Leave my sisters alone.' 

Oh, he liked her like this. 

.

'I'm sorry, what?' 

Harry sighed, hands resting on the kitchen island as his two charges and the demon witch sat around the dining table. All wore expressions of confusion and exhaustion which was exactly what he'd been feeling since discovering the existence of darklighters. Amid all of the panic there was a rage building inside him; at the Elders, at himself, at the fact Macy was out there somewhere being tortured by his other half. 

'The Elders found another way to fuck us from beyond the grave,' Mel seethed, slamming her hand on the table. 

The demon witch, Abigael blinked in surprise. 'Not fond of the Elders? Thought you Charmed Ones would be all for them.' 

Mel sent a look across the table that brought to mind the phrase; if looks could kill. Maggie rested a hand on Mel's shoulders, her attention trained on him. She was ever the peacekeeper, the balance between her sisters. Harry swallowed, unable to keep thoughts of the idea Macy dying out of his head. They'd been through so much, it would be a disservice if she were to die at the darklighter's hands. 

'We can argue later,' Maggie said. 'Macy is still out there with that creep and we still don't know how to find them.' 

'You could scry for them,' Abigael supplied, mining scrying. 

She was smart, Harry would give her that. Perhaps a little too smart. He didn't trust the demon witch as far as he could throw her. He couldn't deny she'd been immensely helpful but her murder attempt against Macy and her closeness to his charge had already soured him on the idea of keeping her around. 'Right now Macy isn't a witch.' 

'Right, witch-ness protection,' Maggie nodded. 'So then how-?' 

'I have an idea.' It was a thought, barely a plan but if he was right it would work and that's all that mattered. 'I am at an advantage. Normally whitelighters can't recall their past life but I can. Everything that makes him tick is in my memories. It's his memories. He's twisted but,' Harry grimaced. 'He's still me.' 

He wouldn't tell the sisters but it was what had been scaring him more than anything else. His feelings for Macy were strong. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd fallen in love with his charge. And there was no way of telling how his love would translate in the darklighter's mind. Thoughts of a violated Macy rose to the forefront of his mind and he struggled to keep the bile down. It didn't matter that the darklighter was a part of him or whether or not he needed him to remain alive or whatever twisted experiment or reason the Elders had for keeping the darklighters; he would kill him. If he touched Macy, Harry would find a way to make him suffer and damn the consequences. 

Maggie flashed him a concerned look. 'Are you sure?'

'I'll be fine. If I can get into his head maybe we can find out where he's taken Macy.' 

Mel stood up. 'You do that. I'm gonna brew some potions.' 

'I think I'm going to use my new powers,' Maggie blanched. 'Maybe if I touch something Macy owns I can see her. Maybe.' 

'And I guess I'm staying here since you're all keeping me imprisoned,' Abigael quipped to an otherwise disinterested room. 

.

He had unstrapped her arms to allow freedom of movement so she could eat peacefully and she had tried to swipe at him but he'd seen it coming a mile away and maneuvered her weak clumsy punch with ease. The need to please her far outweighed the need to punish her so he comprised and strapped her left arm, leaving her to eat with her right. The results were clumsy and awkward. Cute really, the results were cute. 

As she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she glared up at him. Obviously sated, she seemed ready to yell insults and false bravado at him. He hadn't expected her question though; 'You're in my dreams, aren't you?' 

He quirked an eyebrow. Of course, he knew what she was talking about. He had been invading her dreams. It was the only place he could touch her, smell her, hold her in his arms. It had also been a last ditch effort to get her to reveal where her and her sisters had disappeared too. And it had, of course, spiralled him into a whirlwind of chaotic and horny thoughts. He would be lying if he said he hated it. 

He was torn; on one hand, he could come clean tell her it was him she'd been begging to be kissed by. Him who'd made her nipples harden, her breath hitch and eyes roll back in her head for one brief glorious moment. On the other hand, he could feign ignorance. Make her think she wanted him the way he wanted her. In the end, he settled for cryptic. 'We're destined,' he lied. 'You and me.' 

She scowled. 'It was you.' 

Stepping forward, he reached across and brushed the back of his finger against her cheek and then down, down to the corner of her lips. She squirmed away from him and he let her. ‘You were the one going to kiss me.’ 

Her cheeks tinged with red. ‘Yeah, well, that’s because I thought you were...’

A rage surged forth from deep within his chest, melting into jealousy. ‘You thought I was him,’ he supplied, bitterly. 

'You could never be him. You'll never be Harry.' 

It should have pissed him off. Instead, he found it funny. 'If you say so.' 

.

The existence of darklighters seemed to be a closely guarded secret by the Elders and for good reason. Look at the havoc and destruction his dark self had wrecked upon the Vera-Vaughn household. The sudden death of the whitelighters made a little more sense. Harry was sure after the death of the Elders wherever prison they were keeping the darklighters in had been destroyed. Naturally, the darklighters would have killed their whitelighter counterparts, too enraged or too stupid to think what would happen to them if they did. 

His stab wound, long healed and nonexistent, tingled. Even his darklighter had stabbed him without mercy, without a thought to the consequences. His stomach took a swan dive to his feet. Macy was trapped with the darklighter and every time he closed his eyes, he could see her being tortured by him. Tortured and tormented with a face that looked like his, that for all intents and purposes was him. The thing that kidnapped Macy was an extension of himself; his human life, all his dark thoughts and bad desires and urges all stuffed into one being and imprisoned by the Elders. He can't imagine how mad it would have driven his counterpart. 

'Penny for your thoughts?' The demon witch called out snaking her way into the living room. 

Harry opened his eyes, wearily looking over the demon witch from his seated position on the couch. She was useful to his charges and proven herself more than once but still something inside him couldn't bring himself to trust her. 

‘Can I help you?’ he asked, hoping she'd move away quickly. He busied his hands with tidying up papers on the coffee table. 

‘You really are a terrible whitelighter,’ she said, plopping down in the seat opposite him. ‘Your charges are all over the place.’

His hands stilled. ‘I beg your pardon?’ 

'And you're hiding something.' 

Harry studied her face; trying to figure out what kind of game she was playing and whether or not she actually knew something. He'd kept his feelings for Macy under wraps and both of them had decided to pretend she'd never read his mind. They were content with that and he was content to just be there for her. With Galvin and Charity's death and Charity's betrayal, they both had a lot on their minds. Not that Harry really wanted anything to develop. He was their whitelighter, it would be a gross misconduct of power to enter into a relationship with his charge. 

And yet, the Elders were gone and with them, their old and archaic rules. Either way, it didn't matter. He would wait until she was ready. If she was ever ready. Harry sighed, turning his attention to Abigael. Anything to keep his thoughts from spiralling. 

'I don't see how that's any of your business.' 

Abigael shrugged. 'It's not. Just thought I'd let you know you're not as sly as you think you are.' 

'Either way,' he replied. 'It's none of your business. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to do some more research.' 

**Author's Note:**

> Just to let you guys know, your comments and kudos are appreciated. Thank you! ^-^


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